


you waited smiling for this

by chickens_for_AO3, taytocrisps



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, DreamSMP War, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Traitor!Eret, dream team, l'manberg, technically main character death but it's minecraft so they respawn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26471074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickens_for_AO3/pseuds/chickens_for_AO3, https://archiveofourown.org/users/taytocrisps/pseuds/taytocrisps
Summary: Dream snaps, sending a shockwave through both sides. Bonds are broken, people betrayed, blood spilled- resulting in destruction beyond just buildings.A different route, a new choice. An unstable leader and a dead friend. Can L'Manburg even win this war?DreamSMP/L'Manburg's Revolution, where Tommy loses a lot more than just his disks.
Comments: 36
Kudos: 360





	1. Cataclysm

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This fic will be multi-chaptered, updating every week or so (hopefully). I'm very excited for the future, hope you enjoy!

Weariness dragged at his clothes, rain beginning to pick up from a light mist. The air smelled of smoke and grass, scattered coals from a couple day’s old battle finally winking out. 

The door slammed behind Tommy as he stepped into the Camravan. Rain echoed through the metal panels of the parked vehicle, droplets rushing down the windscreen to his right. Wilbur sat close by, crouched over a set of maps. 

It had been a long night. Dream hadn’t attacked, thankfully, but the fear of yet another explosion was constant. The war had been quiet lately- good for gathering more resources, but the longer they dragged the peace out, the more they risked getting caught off guard. 

Everyone was exhausted.

“Anything new?” Tommy asked, throwing his helmet on the counter. He glanced at haphazardly spread maps littering Wilbur’s desk.

“No,” Fundy mumbled tiredly. “We were able to get more food, though.”

“Finally,” He set down his backpack with a heavy clunk, then grabbed an apple out of a basket on the counter, slumping down into one of the chairs. “Where’s Tubbo and Eret?”

Wilbur looked up, dark circles under his eyes more prominent than ever. “I sent them out to check on Dream’s movements a few hours ago.” 

“And they’re not back yet?” Tommy took a bite out of his apple. “They left before I did!” 

“I’m sure they’re fine, Tommy.” Fundy sighed, before turning to Wilbur. “Can I sleep?” 

“Yes.” he responded. “Tommy, would you like to wait up for them or should I?”

“You need your sleep too, big man.” Tommy chided.

“I’ll sleep when this war is over. Did you get the iron?”

Tommy nodded to his backpack sitting on the counter. “Sure did. They left Punz to guard it alone.”

Wilbur hummed, tugging the pack open to reveal several wedges of the silver metal. “Only Punz? Odd.” 

“Not really. They’ve been around less and less these past couple of days. How long have Tubbo and Eret been out for again?”

“Four hours, at least. Around... ten o’clock, I think?” Wilbur set each chunk down on the counter. 

“Did you give them a route? I can go check up and see if they tried to wait out the rain over by the embassy.” Tommy asked, setting down his half eaten apple. 

He glanced at Tommy. “Behind Dream’s base, over by Fundy’s old house and back. They should’ve been back an hour ago.” 

The rain was loud, droplets making his helmet rattle. He trekked along the cliff to his old house, brushing water out of his eyes. It glowed softly in the distance, torches making the wet mud gleam.

“Tubbo? Eret?” Tommy poked his head into the embassy. “You guys okay?” 

The chests were covered in dust, but the air was dry and warm. It smelled faintly of woodsmoke.

“Tommy!” Tubbo said, clicking the door to his back room open. “We were just waiting out the rain, like Eret suggested. Wouldn’t want to catch a cold!” 

“That’s great, but you’ve been out for a while. We were all worried Dream had snatched you or something!” Tommy glared at Eret, who stood grinning behind Tubbo. 

“It’s fine, Tommy. We can head back now.” 

He waited while the other two put their armor on, stepping outside into the rain when they had finished. Rain ran down his helmet onto his face, freezing against his exposed skin.

A sound caught his ear- the heavy thumping of metal on wood. Tommy looked up to see Dream running towards them, netherite armor glowing a soft purple. 

“Oh shit!” He shrieked, leaping over the side of the cliff and latching onto the ladder. The wood was worn beneath his hands, slippery with water. “Lets go!” 

Tommy dropped the last few feet. Eret and Tubbo followed close behind, sodden grass squishing beneath their boots as they ran. 

He heard Dream hit the ground behind them, twin impacts as Sapnap and George followed.

They continued to run to L’Manburg, the rain blinding him as he tried not to trip. It was oddly quiet, save for the clank of armor and rapid footsteps on earth.

Tommy reached the Camravan, throwing the door open as he tumbled inside. “Tubbo? Eret?” 

Wilbur opened the inner door, relief clear on his face. “Where were you?” 

“They were waiting out the rain in the embassy like you said. We were leaving when Dream attacked us!” Tommy said, yanking his rain-soaked armor off. 

“Tommy, where’s Eret?” Wilbur asked, glancing between him and Tubbo. 

Tommy turned to look at the door. “He was- He was right behind us!” 

“Dream must’ve grabbed him.” Tubbo said quietly. “Why didn’t he say anything?”

Wilbur’s eyes were dark. “They might’ve knocked him out. Either way, we’re down a man.”

“How are we going to get him back? “ Tommy asked, yanking a half-dry towel off the chair in front of him. 

“I don’t know, Tommy.” Wilbur sat back down in his chair. “They can’t kill him, they’d lose leverage."

Tubbo dropped his backpack on the floor, his breath still caught from running. “At least we know he’s sort of safe.”

Tommy drifted in and out of sleep while Tubbo kept watch for the night. Wilbur was slumped over his desk, coat draped around him like a blanket. 

“Rain’s stopped.” Tubbo muttered, peering outside at the greying sky. “Maybe he just tripped and hid?” 

“Maybe.” Tommy scrubbed the sleep from his eyes, stretching. 

Fundy emerged from the back room. He froze mid-yawn when he saw Tubbo. “And Eret?”

“Dream got him.” Tubbo answered, shaking his head?

Fundy gasped, face going pale. “Dead? Do we know where his spawn is?” 

“Not dead. Kidnapped.” Tommy yanked his coat off his chair. “They chased us as we left the embassy last night.”

Wilbur muttered something from his desk, shifting in his sleep slightly. 

“Have either of you gotten any sleep?” Fundy asked concernedly. 

They shook their heads. 

“Wilbur!” Someone called from outside. Everyone started; Wilbur bolted up from his desk. 

He blinked at them, owl-eyed in shock. 

The voice called his name again, muffled from outside the van. 

They got dressed quickly, hats and coats and leather boots yanked from a rack on the wall. Anxiety shook their hands as they emerged from the Camravan, Wilbur leading the other three towards the entrance to L’Manburg. 

“Wilbur!” Dream called, voice carrying from the other side of the river. George, Sapnap, and Punz flanked him. “Nice to see you!” 

“It’s 6am, Dream. Couldn’t this have waited a bit longer?” Wilbur responded nonchalantly, tipping his hat at the other man. “I expect this to be about Eret?”

“Yeah. And If you’ll follow us, you can have him back.” Dream turned, leaving the others to follow.

Tommy glanced at Wilbur. “What do we do?”

“This might be our only chance, Tommy. We have to get him back somehow.” Wilbur muttered, stepping into the river. 

Dream led them into a deep tunnel, steps echoing along the stone. Nobody talked. 

Their group came to a halt, Dream turning around suddenly. 

“Why did we stop?” Tommy asked, glaring at the end of the tunnel. “This is a dead end!”

A smile tugged at Dream’s face for a split second, before he barked “Now!” and the floor slid open, pistons yanking the floor from underneath them with a screech of metal. 

Tommy tumbled down the chute, his friends following quickly after. Tubbo slammed his head into the wall on the way down, a low groan escaping him. 

They collapsed onto the floor of an obsidian room, the dark, glassy stone absorbing most of the light coming from the trapdoors above. The pistons slid shut, loud groans of the metal echoing around the space.

Tommy hit the ground first, boots slamming into the floor before he could roll properly. His ankle gave way, a spike of pain shooting up to his knee as he tried to stand with the others. 

“Everyone okay?” Wilbur asked, lightly touching the new bruise on his cheek.

“No,” Fundy said, cradling his hand delicately, assessing the damage. “I think I broke a finger.”

“My ankle’s definitely sprained,” Tommy answered, looking down at his friend “Tubbo? Are you alright?”

Tubbo was sprawled on the floor, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead. Wilbur knelt down next to him, carefully propping the boy up against the back wall. 

“Tubbo.” Wilbur snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Tubbo?”

Tubbo slowly blinked his eyes open, gaze wandering lazily around the dark room. “How’d we get here?” He slurred.

“It was a trap,” Tommy replied, leaning on the smooth wall to relieve his ankle. “What happened to him, Will?”

Wilbur placed a hand on Tubbo's shoulder, trying to keep him awake. “Concussion, probably. He must've hit his head pretty hard when we fell.”

Fundy moved somewhere to Wilbur's left, his uninjured hand following the cold purple-black stone walls. At the sudden shuffle of fabric, Tommy’s eyes snapped over to the shape in the corner, coat dark against the wall. “Eret?”

He grabbed the lone torch off the wall, holding it closer to see his friend, tied at the wrists with white fabric. Eret raised his head in acknowledgement, squinting at the bright torch. Tommy pulled his knife out, cutting the bonds quickly.

Eret rubbed his wrists as he stood, blinking rapidly in the light. “How’d you guys end up in here?”

“It was a trap,” Fundy answered, stepping towards the torchlight. “We came to rescue you and got thrown down here.” 

“How long have you been here?” Tommy cut in, glancing over Eret’s ruffled clothes. 

“A couple hours. They grabbed me when we were running back.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything? We were going too fast for them to have shushed you without a fight-” He was cut off by the obsidian doorway sliding open, light spilling from the stone hallway outside. Tommy dropped the torch, flame flickering out.

Dream entered first, the cool glow of his enchanted armor reflecting off the walls. George and Sapnap followed him, Punz sliding the door shut after them. They carried lit torches, casting the rest of the room into shadow. 

They backed up, Wilbur rising to stand in front of Tubbo. “What do you want, Dream?” He asked in a low voice, eyes scanning the four opposing men.

“Surrender.” Was the quiet reply. 

“You know it isn’t that easy,” Wilbur strode towards the other man. “So you kidnapped Eret and threw us in a hole? Is this your idea of a fair fight?” 

George and Sapnap laughed quietly, smiles darting on and off their faces. 

“Who said anything about a fair fight?” Dream said, gesturing to his friends. “Drop your weapons and your armor.”

Tommy shoved himself off the wall to stand hesitantly on two feet, away from Punz. “Don’t touch me,” He warned.

“Dream, you throw us down a chute and ask for surrender. I’m beginning to think you can’t handle fighting us.” He dropped his knife before Sapnap’s outstretched hand, steadying his balance on his sore foot before yanking a second one from his boot.

Metal rapped against obsidian, tools rattling against the ground when they fell. Tommy shrugged on his coat, hat proudly replacing his helmet. 

“And him,” Dream motioned to Tubbo, half-awake and unmoving on the cold floor. 

“Really? You just gave Tubbo a concussion and you think he’s a threat? Who’s the scared one here?” 

George handed the items to Punz, storing them away in a chest outside. They stepped back behind Dream when they were finished, faces victorious. 

“Surrender.” Dream said once again, pulling the crossbow from a latch on his belt. He raised it towards Wilbur, unloaded. 

“You’re threatening me now? This has got to be a new low.” Wilbur challenged, stepping forward to press his neck into the front of the wood. 

“Quiet.” Dream growled, withdrawing it from Wilbur and loading it. He nodded towards his friends. “Grab them.” 

George and Sapnap stepped forward to bind their hands, pulling coarse rope from their backpacks. Wilbur shoved Punz aside as he reached to pick up Tubbo.

“He’s injured, leave him alone.” Wilbur snapped, steadying Tubbo. The younger boy wobbled, dizzy from the sudden change in position. “What do you want from us?”

Sapnap eyed Fundy's horribly swollen hand, roughly pulling his wrist bindings to tighten them further before pushing him forward. “He told you already. Surrender.”

“You’re a real big man, Sapnap. What’re you doing following this tyrant?” Wilbur laughed.

“Quiet!” Dream snapped, voice echoing along the smooth walls. 

Wilbur turned to Dream, scoffing. “Oh, shut up, will you? We’re not going to surrender.”

“He said shut up,” Sapnap said, moving to tie on Tommy’s restraints. They shared a wary glance, Sapnap breaking the hostile eye contact to bind his hands.

Wilbur shifted away from George, who was tying Eret’s hands together again. “Is this supposed to help you win this battle? By throwing your opponents in jail for a week?” 

Dream shifted, drawing his crossbow towards Wilbur’s chest again. The metal of the arrow tip sparkled in the torchlight. 

“Face it, Green Boy.” he quipped, yanking Tubbo back to standing. “You’re out of time and this is the best you could come up with.”

“Wilbur,” Dream gritted out venomously. His hood was up, shadows making the white of his mask glow. “What’s written on the ceiling?” 

“Very funny, Dream,” Tommy watched Wilbur smirk, glancing at the ceiling. Tubbo shifted beside his friend, woozily lifting his head upwards. “There’s nothing there-” 

The crossbow was loud, click of the latch sending an arrow whistling over Wilbur’s shoulder.

Tommy felt a flash of relief wash over him. They were safe. Dream had missed, and they were safe.

Then Wilbur stumbled, and Tubbo went limp in his arms. 

Tubbo's head rolled back, and Tommy's gaze followed it, horrified. Blood dripped down onto his coat. 

An arrow stuck out from the base of his throat at a sickening angle.


	2. Freefall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TECHNICALLY IT'S STILL SUNDAY FOR ME i did it on time!!!! pog
> 
> hope you enjoy the chapter!!

A cry tried to push its way out of Tubbo’s throat, his body freezing up in coursing waves of pain. Wilbur threw his arms out, lowering him to the ground.

Sapnap stepped away from Tommy, the unfinished knots falling away as he wrenched at them. He dropped to the ground next to his friend, hands fluttering around the wound in Tubbo’s throat. “What do we do?” panic laced his voice

There’s a metallic tang in the back of his throat, his stomach almost revolting. 

“I don’t-” Wilbur’s eyes are wide, gasping for air in shock from his place next to Tubbo, “We can’t remove the bolt. He’ll bleed out.” 

Tubbo’s heaving chest was already shallowing, eyes opening and closing with increasing slowness. They were darting from face to face, blurry with tears and lazy with his concussion. 

Tommy tried to stop the bleeding, pressing around the arrow best he could. His hands were sticky with blood, mind racing as he panicked. 

The ragged breaths began to slow, Tubbo’s eyes glazing over. 

Tommy shot up, hands shaking in rage. A scream was caught in his throat, body locked up, overwhelmed and unstable. 

Wilbur launched himself at Dream, screaming incoherently in anger, his hands closing around his opponent’s throat, pressure barely beginning to build-

Fundy grabbed him around the waist, dragging him back. Wilbur fought in his arms, screaming and writhing. His eyes were wild, mouth spitting curses faster than Tommy could follow. Punz blocked Dream from view as he crouched down next to them. 

Tommy glared at Dream, who had barely moved, lowering the crossbow slowly. 

George looked sick, staring down at Tubbo’s body. It was rapidly dissolving into sand, particles crumbling apart over and over until he was gone. His coat and hat remained, dark blue collar almost black with drying blood. Sapnap stared at the floor in front of him, brows furrowed in equal parts confusion and anger. 

Wilbur quieted into gasping breaths, turning away from the blood still spattered on the floor. Fundy cradled his injured hand, not allowing himself to even glance the general direction of where Tubbo once lay. His head was instead tilted down to the glossy floor, where he suppressed a sob.

“H-how…” Tommy’s voice didn’t work, words sticking in his throat. 

Punz bolted from the room, iron door slamming after him. Dream stared at the floor for a moment longer, relatching his crossbow and following, the other two leaving with him. 

None of them moved for several minutes. Tommy’s ankle throbbed in time with his heartbeat thumping loudly in his chest. He collapsed onto the floor, curling his hands into Tubbo’s coat, yanking his own hat off. 

The others knelt with him, huddled around the uniform.

Several hours might’ve passed. Time moved in long, slow blinks, dragging along as they waited. The obsidian room’s light never altered from its wallowing, mourning hues.

Wilbur’s breathing had slowed, but he remained awake. He rubbed at his bruised wrists idly, eyes distant in hazed thoughts.

A soft knock echoed on the door, a shifting purple glow reaching in. Tommy bolted to his feet, stumbling slightly as his ankle began to ache again. 

The iron lock clicked open, Punz stumbling into the room. His eyes were wide, lined with red. 

“What do you want?” Tommy growled. 

Punz shook his head, eyes averting to the floor. “Nothing. I’m just...” 

“Punz.” Eret said, standing. “Please help us. We’ll provide you safety in L’Manberg if you’ll help us out.” 

Tommy scoffed, “No way! He helped Dream kill Tubbo.”

“This is our only way out,” Fundy hissed at him. “Either this or we let Dream come get us himself.”

“I don’t-” Punz cut himself off, twisting a piece of rope in his hands. “I don’t want to die. But this is the right thing to do.” He looked up from the floor, peering at each of them in the darkness “Right?” 

“Right.” Eret confirmed, resting his hand on Punz’s shoulder. “We won’t let you get hurt.”

They walked outside the obsidian room, moving to collect their stuff from where it had been piled in a chest in silence. Tommy crammed everything into his pack, neatly folding Tubbo’s coat and tucking it into Fundy’s backpack. He held his friend’s hat in his hands, stacked on top of his own. Enchantments would make them easier to see. 

“Follow me,” Punz whispered to them, beginning the steep climb up the tunnel. It was low, smooth stone roughly carved out.

A ladder stretched upwards, the light at the top dimmed by a trapdoor.

Tommy’s foot ached as he climbed and his arms trembled, weak from hunger. Fundy’s hand, now wrapped in layers of gauze, dangled by his side as he tried to grasp the rungs.

Punz, first up the ladder, peeked out from under the trapdoor. Beckoning, he shoved it the rest of the way open, helping to lift everyone the last couple rungs. The room was lined with wood, dry and warm. Chests lined the walls, two tunnels running out of either side of the room. 

“Where are we?” Tommy asked loudly, pushing the lid off of a barrel. It was stacked with food, fish and fruit and bread. 

“Keep it down. This is Dream’s base,” Punz shut the trapdoor once more. 

Tommy paled, yanking his hand out of the container and slamming the lid down, “Oh.”

They crawled out of one last tunnel, into the clean air. He heaved a breath in and out, swinging his arms around. 

It was morning, the sun beginning to dry the rain off the grass. It smelled like mud, breeze fresh and cool against Tommy’s face. 

L’Manberg’s walls were still standing when they arrived. Tommy stumbled into the Camravan, almost slamming the door against his face when he slung it open. 

Punz hovered outside the door, guilt written on his face, “What am I supposed to do?” 

“You have to go back to Dream for the night,” Wilbur answered, pushing the hair out of his eyes. Punz flinched and clenched his fists. “Or you can stay with us, outing yourself as a traitor. One of those options is much more dangerous than the other, however.” 

“I’ll-” Punz assured him, timidly stepping away from the van, “I’ll go.”

They settled in, backpacks clunking against the floor as they slumped in exhaustion.

After almost face planting into his food for the third time, Wilbur sent Tommy to bed. He set Tubbo’s hat next to his own on the rack, lying down on his cot, settling into sleep. 

He woke up the next day, determination and anger burning at his shoulders, brighter than before. Wilbur was already at his desk when he emerged from the back room, scratching out locations on a piece of paper. 

“What’re we doing today, Will?” Tommy bit into a slice of bread, the last twinges of soreness fading away as he ate. 

“Searching for Tubbo’s spawn point,” Wilbur’s voice rasped as he talked. He asks, “Has your ankle healed up?”

The anger welled up again, Tommy pausing to squash it down. “Yes,” he answered.

“Great. Fundy’s out checking the pine forest, why don’t you go and check your old haunts?” 

He shoved his supplies into his backpack, reaching for his coat and hat. 

“No. Take your armor,” Wilbur snapped, tossing his helmet at him, “We’re not at peace yet.”

The metal stung Tommy’s palms, almost dropping his coat to catch it. He looked up at Wilbur for a second, shocked at the sudden change. “Alright.”

The sun had barely set when he left. It had been a while since he had slept that long, when dreams were disturbed by explosions, or nightmares. 

Tommy kept to the edges of the woods, poking around Tubbo’s old house for any sign of him starting to reform. 

Nothing. 

Light continued to fade from the sky, last bits of clouds blocking out fragments of distant constellations. Crickets chirped in the distance. 

The house was covered in cobwebs, dust coating the chests upstairs. There was no bed, either broken during one of the battles, taken by Tubbo, or hidden. Tommy continued to search, raking his hands along the solid walls for a button or lever. 

He found Fundy along the way back. Things felt fragile, like the air would splinter if they broke the silence. The wounds were still fresh.

“Anything?” Wilbur croaked when they returned, staring them up and down. 

Tommy shook his head. 

He sighed heavily, picking back up his pen, “Either he’s going to be gone for longer than we thought, or he set his spawn somewhere else. Dismissed.”

Grief burned at the back of Tommy’s throat, simmering in his stomach like a bucketful of lava. Why couldn’t he do better?

A flash of glass caught his eye. Blaze dust was sprinkled on the floor, brewing stand toppled over on it’s side. Tommy glanced at Wilbur for a second. 

He snatched the stand off the floor and left. 

Underneath the Embassy, he began to prepare. Spider eyes, glass bottles, gunpowder, blaze rods, stolen from the surrounding houses, lay scattered on the table. He sharpened his sword, collecting arrows for his last enchanted bow. Tommy’s Netherite armor, dusty from sitting in his ender chest for so long, cleaned and repaired. 

It didn’t take him long to get into the rhythm of making potions. Sprinkling gunpowder on the bottles, weakening the glass until it was fragile, watching the bright red glitter of a healing potion violently bubble into the color of dried blood. 

Tommy coated his arrows in the liquid, the bright metal of the arrow tips vanishing under the acid. His arms were flecked in burns by the end of the day, tiny splashes from different potions burning his exposed skin.

He ignored Wilbur’s worried glances at dinner that night, scrubbing the poison from his hands. They didn’t understand how it felt. Dream couldn’t just get away with something like this. 

He was tired of hiding in L’Manberg while they waited for Dream to make his next move. Tired of waiting to get his revenge.

It was his turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed it leave a comment or kudos! See you next week :)


	3. Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is not Sunday.
> 
> hope you enjoy the chapter all the same!

Dream crouched over a furnace, tossing strips of beef in. The fire was hot against his hands, contrasting from the cold underneath his mask. 

It had been two days since he killed Tubbo. 

The smooth, light wood of the crossbow recoiling slightly as he fired was the only physical memory. Something had roared in his chest. It was colored by anger, devoid of fear, something greater, power thrumming in his hands as he looked at the crumbling soldier’s face. 

He broke out of it again when they returned to the community house, emotions trickling back into confidence, yanking out maps and scribbling out old plans. 

Their house was cold, raising goosebumps under his armor. He felt the air whistle past his ear, looking down to see an arrow embedded in his desk. 

Dream stared down at the arrow, whatever liquid was on it seeping into the wood with a flicker of smoke. His body jolted upwards on its own, yanking his shield off the ground to catch the second arrow. 

Tommy stepped down from the staircase in the center of the room, sword in his right hand and crossbow in his left. His face was full of rage, eyes rimmed with red and eyebrows drawn into a sharp frown. 

Neither of them moved for a brief second. 

Another arrow stabbed into Dream’s shield, metal piercing into the wood and sticking. He yanked it out, snapping the wood in half, the poison coating the tip splashing on his skin. 

He stepped backwards, hissing in pain as the acid began to soak in.

Tommy charged forwards, slashing at Dream’s shield to drive him back further. Dream’s hand flashed in pain as he caught the next swipe on his blade, grip on his sword weakening. 

Dream shoved his shield forwards, knocking Tommy’s sword away from his body. He swung his blade upwards, Tommy’s side vulnerable as his arm moved to balance himself. The dented metal of the armor caved around his blade, ripped edges clinging onto the metal like teeth.

Tommy wrenched himself away from Dream's blade, tumbling to the floor. He moved stiffly, curling around his bruised side. 

Dream examined his blade for a second, scratches lining the once clean metal.

"Why are you here?" Dream growled, stepped back as his opponent stood.

Tommy said nothing, reaching into his coat. A flash of light caught Dream's eye, raising his sword to catch the dagger aimed towards his throat-

Glass shattered on his chestplate, hot liquid seeping through the cracks of his armor, soaking into his clothes underneath. 

He screamed. 

The pain was white hot and bubbling, flicking further across his skin as the acid-soaked fabric shifted. The poison leached at his energy, struggles growing weaker as his limbs became heavy. Dream scrabbled at his chest, burned fingers struggling to unlatch the metal.

He glanced up at Tommy, struggling to decide whether to attack or not.

The pain began to fade, the acid weakening as it dried up.

Something in his chest _screamed_ at his hurt, that his pain wasn't deserved, that it belonged to someone else.

Dream shouted, swinging his sword upward as he flung himself towards his enemy.

They stumbled as he brought his sword down onto them, barely able to catch the strike with their own blade. 

He bore down on them, the enemy struggling not to cave under his weight. They were weakening, fading muscles rattling their sword against his own. 

Dream paused for a second, before throwing all his weight into shoving them onto the floor.

His enemy landed on their back, sword clattering to the floor next to them. Dream flicked his blade downwards, point resting just above their throat.

"This seems familiar," he hummed to himself. His arm drew back, muscles a coiled spring, ready to kill.

"Dream?" He heard someone gasp out. 

He paused, eyes refocusing on the new person.

"What are you _doing?_ " George asked, stepping away from the door. "Why are you trying to kill him?"

Dream looked back at the ground, staring at Tommy's terrible, terrible rage. 

"I-" He choked out, "He was-"

"He’s still a child!" George finished for him. "This war should not be his fight. You killed his friend! He was going to come for revenge eventually!"

"He still attacked me!" Dream shouted, pressing his sword harder into Tommy's throat. 

He met George's gaze again, filled with fear and anger and sadness and _betrayal,_ slamming the door behind him as he fled the room.

"George!" Dream shouted, sheathing his sword and racing after him.

His footsteps are loud on the oak planks, racing past the different structures dotting the path. Dream's heartbeat thudded in time with his thoughts, how _dare_ George not understand he was trying to fix something. When had his friend not given him the benefit of the doubt? Was George a traitor? How many of them were?

He stopped at Punz's house, wrenching the door open to see George almost-shouting at Sapnap.

"You have to believe me! Why would Dream try and kill Tommy? He _knows_ he's stronger, why make L'Manberg even angrier at us?" George said.

"What if Tommy almost killed him?" Sapnap shot back. "Maybe he had it coming!"

Punz looked sick, staring at the floor as he listened.

"Guys! It's not what it looked like! Tommy attacked me first." Dream set his helmet down on one of the tables with a clunk. "He threw acid at me!"

"You killed Tubbo, Dream. Did you think he wouldn't try and retaliate?" George answered. "Sending Tommy home with a couple scratches wouldn't have started another battle."

"I was _defending_ myself, George." He said. "Since when did you just start assuming the worst?"

"When you killed Tubbo." Punz snapped. Fear was written across his face, equal parts to anger. "I can't-"

Everyone was silent, staring at Punz as he struggled to get the words out. 

"I can't stay on the wrong side of history. They're fighting for freedom from us for a reason," 

"What are you saying?" Sapnap growled, face hard. 

"I’m not staying here." Punz took off his helmet, running his hands over the flickering enchantments. 

Dream stared at his once-friend as he walked towards him.

Punz dropped his helmet in Dream's hands. He shut the door softly behind him.

Anger welled back up in Dream's chest, the word traitor ringing in his skull.

\----

"Where have you been?" Wilbur asked. 

Tommy had stumbled home, the cut on his side aching, the food he left in his pockets not enough to heal the bruise completely.

"Out." He grumbled, throwing himself down onto one of the chairs dotting the Camarvan.

"Tommy. Don't lie to me." Wilbur pointed at a figure, hunched over with their head in their hands. 

"Who the fuck is that? And I told you I was out."

"Tommy!" Wilbur shouted. "You went and fought Dream, didn't you?"

"So what if I did? I'm still here, aren't I?" He yelled back, ripping his helmet off and tossing it onto the floor. 

Fundy and Eret emerged from the back room, faces pained.

Wilbur stomped towards him, towering over Tommy. "What if you had died? Do you want us to lose the war? We're already one man down!" 

"Is that all you care about? Tubbo fucking died and you only care about winning?" Tommy raged, shooting to his feet, trying to stare Wilbur down. 

“Of course not! But you need to pay more attention-”

"Shut the fuck up!" Fundy screamed, surprising them both. Wilbur stepped back, Tommy shifting to glare at Fundy. "You!" He jabbed his finger into Wilbur's chest. "Need to learn how to deal with your grief."

Wilbur scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"And you!" Fundy shoved Tommy back down to sitting, glaring down at him. "Killing Dream will not bring back Tubbo."

"But-" Tommy started.

"Shut up." Fundy snapped. "Getting _yourself_ killed won't bring him back either."

"I had to try!"

"And you failed! Until we have the resources to actually go against them, stop being so goddamn reckless!" He huffed, stepping back towards Eret. "We thought you had died." Fundy's voice softened, worry slipping back onto his face.

"You heard him, Tommy. You'll have your chance." Wilbur filled the silence. He gestured towards the new person. "Punz has joined us."

"What?" Tommy asked, his voice pitching upwards. "He stood by as Tubbo was shot by Dream and we're just letting him join L'Manberg?"

Punz flinched slightly from his place in the opposing chair.

"He has information! Either we gain a man or we run the risk of Dream winning his loyalty back." Wilbur answered briskly. 

Tommy scoffed, sitting back. 

"Now." Wilbur clapped his hands together, turning to yank food out of the bags lining the wall. "Have you eaten yet?"

He threw Tommy a roll of bread, weight already lifting in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a happy ending before the next couple of chapters.
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, leave a comment or kudos :)
> 
> See you (I promise maybe) next Sunday!


	4. Halt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAA I know this is really late, sorry, but I hope you enjoy the chapter! It's a little short, but hopefully this Sunday's will make up for it ;)

CH. 4  
“Shut up, Punz.”

“Tommy!” Wilbur snapped, tossing a ball of paper at his head, “Stop being so awful!”

“You’re not the boss of me, Wilbur,” Tommy answered, glaring at Punz from across the room. The tension was loud and choking, Fundy and Eret had long since escaped to run supplies.

“He’s on our side!" 

"He stood by and watched-"

Punz was sitting back in a chair, eyes closed. They had been arguing for half an hour, Tommy unwilling to commit to leaving him alone and Wilbur attempting to welcome him into L'Manberg.

"We need information, Tommy! Do you want us to be caught off guard? Do you want Fundy to be kidnapped next?" Wilbur said. 

Tommy tensed up, eyes boring holes into the floor, "No," he mumbled.

"Then at least cooperate."

"Wilbur-" Tommy started, stopping at Wilbur's hand in his face.

"We need tools. Think you can handle working in the forge for a couple hours?" Wilbur turned around, beginning to rummage around in a couple chests. 

The sun was low in the sky when he stopped, scratched-up hands falling to his sides. Tommy’s ears rang, the sound of metal scraping metal still bouncing around his skull. 

The sharped tools were spread out on a cloth in front of him, roughly shaped swords and axes bright in the dying light of the furnaces. Even with the way the iron worked- almost shifting and shaping itself into whatever he willed it to be- it was difficult to get it exactly right. 

Tommy climbed up the ladder at the edge of the room, the cold night air rushing downwards into the hot stone room. The Camarvan sat peacefully in the middle of L’Manberg, crickets and frogs singing a rough melody in the grass around it. 

“What’s up?” He asked as he walked into the main room, chairs littering the open space.

His friends and Punz were scattered around the room in a rough circle, the quiet conversation dying down when he walked in. Wilbur’s forced smile, even directed at Punz, hurt to look at. 

“We’re just getting supper, Tommy,” Eret answered, glancing up from his food. 

“Why’s it so goddamn awkward in here?” He asked loudly, setting the bundle of iron tools down. 

Things lightened considerably, Tommy settling down next to Fundy and Eret. The food was hot, a rare occurrence when they often had to evacuate quickly, and he was content for the first time in days. 

That note soured when he glanced at Punz’s chair, the tiny “T” scratched into the wooden armrest mocking him from where it sat. 

Supper was over quickly, torches getting brighter as the darkness outside stretched the wall’s shadows over the Camarvan. 

“Wait,” Punz called after Wilbur, who was barely stepping out of the Camarvan. They still did nightly watches, unease weighing on their chests as they waited for Dream’s next attack. 

“Yes, Punz?” Wilbur asked, already halfway out the door.

“He’s been a bit- I think-” The words caught in his teeth, fear making his heart click against his chest as he tried to talk, “Dream’s been acting weird lately.’

Wilbur paused, turning around and shutting the door, “In what way?”

“He’d get- He’d get really mad when his plans didn’t work. The night Tubbo escaped with all those emeralds...” Punz stopped, face going pale, “It was horrible. Sapnap was able to de-escalate it before it went too far, but things got worse after that.”

“Well that’s normal, isn’t it? I’m sure Tommy can attest to my reactions when a plan goes wrong,” Wilbur answered. 

“Dream’s never been an angry guy,” Punz reminded him, “We had no idea about the obsidian room. He’d disappear sometimes, but it was never for very long.”

“You didn’t know about the obsidian room?” Wilbur’s eyes widened, straightening up, “How?” 

“He never told us. I’d assume George or Sap heard something about it, but they were just as confused as I was.”

Wilbur shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, “This...complicates things. Did you hear anything about their plans before you left?” 

“No,” He answered, “They were trying to avoid a full out revenge attack.”

“And now that Tommy’s already tried, and you’ve left, they’re going to make their next move. Soon.”

Punz said something quietly, voice dimming as Tommy stepped further back into the room. 

He settled down onto his cot, heartbeat loud in his ears. 

*** 

Dream huffed, rolling up his sleeves and digging his shovel back into the sand. It wasn’t difficult work, the shovel enchanted and swinging through the air lightly.

“Dreeeam,” George whined beside him, leaning on his shovel, “Do we have to do this right now?” 

“How else do you expect to beat them?” Dream answered, tossing more sand into the heavy bags, “We don’t have very much time. And we don’t know what Punz has told them.” 

“You think Punz joined L’Manberg?” George asked, surprised. 

“Where else would he go? He’s the one that let our enemies out of the obsidian room,” Dream threw his shovel onto the ground, slumping down into the dirt beside it. 

“Why?” 

“Because he’s a traitor,” Dream growled, getting back up onto his feet, “We’re losing our advantages and they’ve got the resources we shared with him. There’s six of them and three of us.” 

“Five,” Sapnap corrected, before clapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Right. Five. Which is why we have to get this done before Tubbo respawns.” 

“Tubbo? He’s a threat now?” George said, tying back up one of the bags. 

Frustration prickled at the back of Dream’s neck, “They’re all a threat.” 

“But Tubbo?” He sighed. “You shot him in the neck when he had a concussion.”

“I know what I did!” Dream snapped back, shoving his shovel back into his backpack, “What would’ve happened if I hadn’t?”

“We would’ve Punz on our team!” George shot a look at Sapnap, quiet beside Dream. 

“They would’ve attacked us! I’m sure of it.” 

“No, they wouldn’t have! If they had lost a teammate, don’t you think they’d be too shocked to fight back?” 

“They did lose a teammate,” Dream answered. “And I was right. Tommy tried to attack me.”

“You killed Tubbo! All you did was set them back a couple days!” George yelled, stepping towards Dream. 

“They’re dangerous!” Dream roared, shoving George down into the dirt, “Who’s the one in charge here?” 

George said nothing, his eyes staring into the horizon. 

“George,” He yanked his sword from its sheath, the purplish metal resting on his friend’s neck, “I’m the one who got us this far. I’m the one who says they’re dangerous.”

“Dream-” Sapnap started, stepping towards them. His hands were outstretched, like he was walking towards a frightened animal. 

Dream released his sword, blade falling back to his side, “I know you, George. Don’t try switching sides now.” 

It was silent for several heartbeats. 

George ignored Dream’s outstretched hand, dusting himself off as he stood. They stared at each other for a moment, eyes covered by their masks.

“What’s next, Dream?” Sapnap sighed, tossing a bag of sand over his shoulder. “Flint?”

“Yeah,” Dream broke their staring contest, reaching down to the bags of sand, “We’ll need gunpowder too.”

George didn’t move for a moment. 

“George,” Sapnap whispered, nodding towards Dream, “Please.”

He snatched his shovel off the ground, knuckles white against the wooden handle. 

“Okay,” George answered. 

Dream grinned, face twisted oddly behind his mask, the weight on his chest lightening, “We’re gonna need glass too. Potions are useful, especially with all the armor Punz might have given them...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! if you liked it, leave a comment or a kudos :D


	5. Splinter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally on time for once! It's been a while since a properly timed Sunday update (RIP everyone GMT+)
> 
> I hope you like the chapter! it's a very exciting one...

CH. 5

The air was warm, the flowers lining the path turning their faces towards the glowing sun. A light breeze wound its way around his hands. 

They continued on the wooden trail, drying planks springy under their feet. 

It was nice to see the birds flitting from tree to tree, the sky was bright, cleared of smoke for the first time in months. 

“Where are we going?” George mock-whispered. 

Dream almost laughed, but the determination in his expression weighed the corners of his mouth down. “We’ve only been walking for ten minutes! Are you already that bored?” 

“We’re not going to Punz’s house, are we?” George asked, shifting the arm strapped to his shield. 

“I think we left some of our plans there, I just wanted to go check.” Dream jogged up the wooden steps, the crossbow on his belt tapping against his armor. 

His friends followed him into the near-silent wooden house. It smelled faintly of bread, the quiet hum of bees sounding through the floorboards above. 

“Are you sure?” Sapnap asked him, setting down his sword on one of the tables. “Why’d you have us bring all our armor then?” 

Dream poked at one of the old notches in the wall, a compartment springing open slightly next to it. “Just in case.” 

“Did you find anything?” George asked. 

“Yeah. I left a list of supplies here a while ago,” Dream answered. He pushed the drawer back into the wall. 

“That’s it? You made us get up at ass in the morning and dress in full armor to get a list of supplies?” Sapnap flung one of the doors open, dramatically stepping back into the sunlight. 

Dream shoved the papers into his backpack, crinkling slightly with the force. “I guess I did.”

He stepped out of the house, George following him. They stood there for a second, Dream glancing over the land below him.

Something clicked in his head while he stared at the wooden house across the path.

“Where are you going?” George followed him into the yard. 

Dream motioned to the house, stripped logs contrasting the blackstone foundation. “Maybe there’s something we can use in here?”

George blinked at him. “Tubbo’s house?”

He walked inside. It was dim, the torches long since burned out. Dream continued up the creaky stairs, entering the chest room. 

“Where’d you guys go?” Sapnap asked, voice echoing in from downstairs. “Why are we going through Tubbo’s house?”

“Dream thought he might’ve left something useful here.” George began to look through the chests as well, poking around their contents.

There was nothing useful inside, sticks clacking against piles of cobblestone as he tossed things around. 

“Are we done yet?” George said, sitting back from the last chest on his side. “We’ve already been out for an hour, and I wasn’t able to get breakfast.”

Dream unrolled a map, scanning over it quickly. “We’ll be done in a second.”

“Did you find anything useful?” Sapnap joined them upstairs, boots tapping against the wooden planks. 

“No,” George answered.

“Then why’d we come? I don’t see the point in going through people’s houses when we already know everything valuable is already gone.” 

George nodded, sending a glance towards Dream. “There’s always a chance. Maybe they left him a note or something for when he respawns?” 

“We’ve still wasted a morning here. What happened to preparing for another attack?” Sapnap led the way back downstairs. 

Dream paused for a second at the top of the stairs, looking around the dark room. He smiled for a split second. 

“Maybe I should be the leader. Have you gone senile, Dream?” he taunted.

“No,” Dream said, “But I guarantee I’m a better leader than you.”

“You do?” Sapnap poked him in the chest. “Which one of us provoked Tommy’s attack?” 

It was dead silent for a moment, Dream’s eyes widening behind his mask. George nudged Sapnap’s shoulder, pointing subtly towards the door. 

“No!” Sapnap moved away from George, pushing against Dream. “Why did you have to go and kill Tubbo? Why did you think that would make anything better?” 

“Because,” Dream answered, shoving against his friend to stay standing. “I knew it would make them angry. That’s why I did it.”

“Where’s the logic in that?” Sapnap asked incredulously. 

Dream moved past him, exiting the house. 

“Dream?” George asked, Sapnap following him outside. “Why were you trying to make them angry?”

He stayed silent, placing his backpack on the grass. Flint and steel flashed in his hands as he lit a torch. He could feel Sapnap’s eyes on him, gaze flicking from his hands to his mask.

“If you’re not gonna tell us, we’re just gonna leave. C’mon, George.” Sapnap walked away, George following reluctantly.

“Well, when you’re trying to trap an animal,” Dream stared at the torch for a moment longer. “You gotta bait it first.” 

He tossed the torch at Tubbo’s house, the dry, peeling logs catching quickly. 

Dream flinched violently as sudden pain spread up in his leg, sharp and aching. He heard the recoil of a crossbow click nearby. 

“Dream!” Someone shouted. A weight collided with his chest, knocking him into the grass. 

Tommy stared down at Dream in rage, the man’s polished white mask reflecting the flames. He yanked his knife out of his coat pocket, struggling to hold him down. 

“Tommy!” Wilbur shouted, emerging from behind a cluster of trees. Fundy, Eret, and Punz followed. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m not-” He kicked at the bolt sticking out of Dream’s calf, “-letting him get away with this again!” 

They ran over, Fundy helping to hold Dream down. Eret and Punz watched the path, Wilbur standing over Tommy. He held their hats in his hands, each of their heads crowned with helmets. 

“Fuck!” Tommy heard Sapnap say. “George! Turn around!” 

“Stay where you are,” Wilbur said, raising his sword at the two. They stopped some feet away, two pairs of eyes watching in alarm. 

Dream struggled, Tommy’s grip on his hands beginning to loosen. 

“Wilbur?” Tommy asked, allowing his eyes to focus on Fundy for a moment, who was also struggling to hold Dream beside him. “I don’t think I thought this through.” 

“Damn right you didn’t! We’re in no position to be taking hostages! Especially not Dream, of all people!” Wilbur answered.

Dream suddenly vanished, a wisp of purple replacing him. Tommy almost fell forward, the shift in weight throwing him and Fundy off balance. A couple of meters away, Dream struggled to stand, leaning heavily on his shield. 

They stared at him for a moment, gasping for air, his blood trickling into the grass. Tommy got to his feet, brushing dirt off of his clothes.

“You,” Dream began, the friendly smile of his mask facing towards Punz. “You goddamn fucking traitor.”

Punz stepped back in shock, Eret moving in front of him. 

“You chose L’Manberg,” Dream shook with anger. “You chose wrong.”

“Wait a second-” Eret started. 

“Shut up!” Dream snapped. His focus locked onto Eret. “How’re your friends going to react?”

Eret paled. 

“React when- when what?” Tommy asked. “What did you do?”

“Your ‘friend’ volunteered himself as a victim,” Dream’s anger suddenly cracked, face splitting into a glowing smile, voice brightening sickeningly as he continued. “He wanted to ‘stay on the winning side.’” 

Tommy stepped away from Eret, his friends mirroring him. He stood in the middle of the circle, fear written all over his face. 

“He lied to you!” Dream laughed, “He never believed you could win from the very beginning!” 

The clearing echoed with Dream’s horrible laughter, accusing and maniacal. 

“Guys- I-” Eret stumbled over his words, turning to look at his friends. His sunglasses were dark against his skin, pale with shock. “I can explain-”

Wilbur stared at the man, disappointment dripping like wax from his expression. He tossed Eret’s hat up, the black material hanging for a moment in the air. 

With a smooth motion, Wilbur drew his sword, slicing the hat in half. Eret watched, face breaking apart as he watched the halves flutter back down to earth.

Dream straightened up. He rubbed the tears of laughter from his eyes, returning his attention to Eret. “Sorry about that. An eye for an eye, y’know? Traitor for a traitor.”

“Tommy,” Wilbur rumbled, voice a lamenting monotone. “Let’s go.” 

He glanced at Eret for a second, scoffing. Punz followed Wilbur, sending flickering glances over his shoulder at Dream.

“How could you?” Fundy asked, his fists clenched at his sides, staring at Eret. “We trusted you.”

“I trusted Punz!” Dream chimed in, earning a glare from Fundy. His mood darkened again, the smile twisting into a frown. “And look where that got me.”

“It seemed like...” Eret said hopelessly. “It seemed like the right move. I didn’t think it would go this wrong.”

Fundy sighed heavily, following Wilbur and Punz into the woods. Tommy watched Eret turn towards Dream. 

“What now?” Eret asked. The halves of his black hat fluttered lightly in the breeze behind him. 

Dream turned, shifting his shield back onto his arm. “That’s up to you.” 

“You’re not-” He cut himself off, wringing his hands. “I can’t go back home.”

“You’re not staying with us,” Dream said, beginning to walk away. “You’re not exactly the most trustworthy person around, nowadays.” 

Tommy paused for a second. Eret stood, still staring down at the halves of his hat, the bright glow of Tubbo’s slowly burning house glinting off of his dark sunglasses. 

He left. 

\----

That night was quiet, the lake around the house glass-still. 

George and Sapnap were talking in the corner, startled when he opened the door. 

“Where were you?” Sapnap asked.

Dream dropped his heavy backpack on the ground, tugging different packages out onto the floor. Glass bottles clinked against each other in the paper, sides thin and ready to break. Bundles of arrows, apples shining with gold, iron, redstone. 

“Scavenging.” Dream stood up, hanging his armor up on a stand. 

“You stole this?” George asked, pushing one of the packages with his foot. 

Dream smiled slightly. “Nobody ever said it was against the rules.”

“Who did you take it from?” 

“Does it matter?” Dream shrugged, jumping up to sit on one of the furnaces. 

George glared at him.

He laughed a tiny bit, his friends tensing up at the noise. “Okay, Okay! They’re from Eret’s house.”

“What the hell?” George asked. “First you expose him as a traitor and then you steal from him?” 

Dream sat up, shocked. “He’s a traitor. Why would I care about him? If he had joined us when those idiots fell down our trap, we would have won by now.” 

George threw his hands up in the air, moving towards him. “You burned down Tubbo’s house! How is that going to help?” 

“It gathered everyone in one place, didn’t it?” Dream narrowed his eyes. “And since when do you question me so much?”

“When you started being so fucking manipulative! You’re not even fighting to win anymore!” 

Dream stopped. “What?”

“This whole thing you’re doing- killing Tubbo to make them mad, using his house like a beacon, exposing Eret- It’s sick! We could stop them in half a second and you’re running around like it would be a challenge!” George yanked his glasses off. “Why are you playing with them?”

He stared at his friend, confusion and frustration and guilt fighting to get past his teeth. 

George sighed, the anger leaving his body with a breath. “I can’t watch you do this.” 

His friend’s words echoed the traitor, Dream realized. “You’re not- you’re not leaving, are you?” 

“I-” George glanced at Sapnap. “I’m not going to join L’Manberg.” 

“Come on!” He jumped off the furnace. “If you want me to take them down, I can. Don’t leave.” 

“Dream.” Sapnap broke in, standing side by side with George. “You can’t keep him here.” 

Dream grabbed his sword off the rack, raising it to the other two. “You’re not leaving. We already lost Punz.”

“Punz had the right idea.” Sapnap drew his sword as well, falling into a defensive position. 

Nobody moved for a second.

“George! Trust me. We’ll attack them tomorrow. And then everything will go back to normal!” Dream began. “Why would I lie to you?”

“You lied about Eret.” George’s voice was steel. “You lied about the obsidian room.” 

Dream paled. “I won’t lie anymore! Don’t leave.” 

“You killed Tubbo in cold blood.” Sapnap lowered his sword, the tip resting against the wooden floor. 

“I-” Dream cut himself off, red beginning to glimmer at the edges of his vision. “Maybe I was toying with them.”

They froze.

“Maybe I wanted them to hurt.” Dream swung his sword in an arc, clipping the edge of the stairs. “I wanted to hurt them to where they wouldn’t have the courage to fight anymore.”

George looked sick. “You’re insane.”

“I am not insane. I’m playing to win.” 

The traitor’s face hurt to look at, guilt and sadness swirling into shame. He turned, pulling his backpack from the floor. George stepped into the moonlight, the door clicking softly behind him. 

“Why are you staying?” Dream waved his sword at Sapnap, ignoring the disbelief sinking its teeth into his bones. 

“I promised him,” Sapnap sighed, placing his blade back on the rack. He walked over to one of the chests on the wall, pulling a crossbow from it. “He wanted you to have this.”

Dream felt the anger clawing its way to the surface, as he took the crossbow in his hands. It was lighter than his own, the drawstring slightly frayed. Enchantments glimmered across the dark wood. He had given it to George long before the beginning of the war. 

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Sapnap asked coolly. “Are we gonna just charge them?”

He swung the crossbow over his head, throwing it at the floor with a crack. Dream stomped on the frame, enchantment’s purple glow flickering out as it was destroyed.

Sapnap looked at him in shock. “What the hell?”

“We’ve got no room for traitors.” Dream answered, staring down at the splinters of wood. 

“George isn’t a traitor! You’re the one who gave him the damn crossbow in the first place!”

“Sapnap.” Dream sank to the floor, picking up the materials he had laid out earlier. “Can you pass me the blaze rods?” 

Sapnap looked down at him, anger making his hands shake. “George was right. You are sick.”

Dream sighed. “Goodnight, Sap.”

His last friend stomped up the stairs, leaving him to wait in silence until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! if you liked it, leave a kudos or a comment please :) 
> 
> See you next week!


	6. Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood/gore warning for this chapter!
> 
> Sorry it's so late, but this is probably my favorite chapter so far. Just short of 2k words, and a whole lotta angst. 
> 
> Enjoy reading!

The woods were alive, the chirp of foxes and the rustling leaves carried far on the wind, zombies and skeletons rose from the ground stumbling around in the distance. Tommy continued on his path. They hadn’t heard anything from Dream since earlier that morning. 

He ignored the charred remains of Tubbo’s house as he walked by. The glowing coals burned bright in the darkness, acrid smoke staining the remaining wood grey. 

“Just a few more days,” he told himself. There was little time to search for Tubbo’s spawn point, between the defense reinforcements and gathering resources, but Wilbur had let him and Fundy search for a couple hours. 

Punz was a surprisingly good strategizer, working with Wilbur to use their sparse materials and few advantages to good use. Tommy had left L’Manberg that evening, hope making his coat weightless.

A loud huff of breath caught his attention. Tommy threw himself into a crouch, shoving his hat down to cover his bright hair. He peeked over the edge of a bush, glancing around for the source. 

Dream stood in a small clearing. His netherite armor was splattered with blood, bones littering the ground at his feet. He looked around for a brief moment, taking off towards a rustling bush. 

What the fuck? Tommy thought. A shout followed by a puff of dust sounded against the trees, the crunch of a sword against bone startling. Dream continued on, moving from monster to monster. 

Tommy could barely make out Dream’s expression, a snarl half hidden under his mask and moving so fast it blurred. It was terrifying- Dream never slowed to take a breath, dashing from mob to mob as fast as his feet could carry him. Tommy stared at his opponent, feeling like he was watching the creation of a desert. 

He took a step back, looking away as another skeleton crumbled into sand, and moved as quietly as he could back to L’Manberg. 

“Wilbur,” Tommy found himself trying to stay quiet, like Dream could still hear him from the forest. “Wilbur!” 

Wilbur startled awake, jerking upwards from his cot. Punz had finally convinced him to get some sleep, after his friend had almost fallen face-first into one of the ponds, “What?” 

“Is Fundy back yet?” He felt the echo before he heard it. The obsidian room flashed horribly in front of his eyes, the traitor tied up in the corner. 

“I don’t- No,” Wilbur’s voice was heavy with tiredness.

“Wilbur! Stay awake,” Tommy resisted the urge to smack him, “Punz was right. There’s something very, very wrong with Dream.”

“What?” 

Tommy groaned with frustration. “I saw Dream out in the forest! He was running around killing zombies like a fucking serial killer or something!”

“And you woke me up for this?” Wilbur asked.

“Yes! Fundy’s still out there with that guy! You have to believe me, Dream’s gone mad or something!” 

Wilbur held his hands up, yawning, “Why is Dream killing mobs something to panic about?” 

“Don’t you fucking remember how he acted when he burned down Tubbo’s house? He’s not sane anymore, Wilbur!” Tommy said, throwing his hands into the air.

“Slow down, Tommy,” Wilbur answered. “As long as Fundy stays away from that area of the forest, he’ll be fine.” 

“Wilbur! Listen to me!” Tommy grabbed Wilbur’s shoulders, shaking him slightly, “Dream is running around the forest covered in blood and spider silk. Fundy isn’t safe as long as he’s out there.” 

“Alright! Alright. I’ll send Er-” Wilbur paused, “Tommy, go find Fundy.”

\----

Zombies groaned in the distance, shuffling around in the bushes. He was crouched down in the grass, watching a creeper inch further and further away from him, waiting for one to get too close. 

Gunpowder was pretty much useless outside of war, he thought. 

Dream’s armor rustled as he stood. A skeleton loaded an arrow in the corner of his eye, spiders drawing close. His heartbeat quickened as he looked over the mobs, twirling his sword lightly in his hand. 

He had left his house early that morning, the urge to run and move and fight flashing hot in his blood. Sapnap had stared after him, his eyes dark from tiredness. Dream’s shoulders had prickled, shoving the memory of lively spars and laughter roughly from his mind. 

Dream stabbed through another zombie, the smell of rot filling the air as it exhaled in his face. He shook it off, tearing through another set of spiders.

The sun was lightening the sky, his enemies crumbling in the light. Dream’s chest heaved, his muscles burning from the exertion. He glanced down at himself, arms covered in scratches and chestplate banged up from fighting for so long. 

He shoved the last bit of gunpowder into his backpack. Sapnap called his name in the distance, startlingly loud after the silence of night. 

Dream stepped onto a faint trail, the spruce trees pouring their needles onto his head as he walked along. 

Footsteps patterned on the path in front of him, too light to be Sapnap and too heavy to be an animal. Dream swept forward, shoving his sword into his attacker. A sigh followed, the dust fluttering up from the crumbling body. 

He shoved the branches aside, wanting to look his enemy in the face before they died. 

A small bit of wool remained, white almost glowing against the dark soil. Dream stared down at it, heartbeat slowing as his thoughts cleared again. 

  
“Dream!” Sapnap shouted again. 

They walked back to the house together, forest rustling in the breeze. Nostalgia washed over Dream, tears pricking the edge of his eyes as he thought of his friends. 

It felt like years ago, chasing each other around the farms and exploring the nether together. George recklessly tossing himself off of a blackstone ledge and immediately exploding in a puff of sand. Helping Sapnap carry logs back to the house, dogs barking and whining for treats. 

What was with his brain today? Dream thought. He gripped the handle of his sword tightly. Keep your head in the present. 

“What were you doing all day?” Sapnap asked. 

“...Nothing,” Dream pushed another branch out of his face, the lake slowly coming into view. 

Sapnap rubbed at his eyes in frustration. “I can see the blood all over your armor, dude. I know you were doing something.”

“I was...fighting mobs. I needed the experience to enchant my pickaxe, and we need gunpowder for TNT, and I didn’t want to just sit at home-” 

“Stop it,” Sapnap said. “You’re an idiot.”

Dream huffed. “And why do you say that?” 

“Your pickaxe is already enchanted, and you said we were done making TNT yesterday.” 

“I did?” Dream blinked, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did.” A little bit of Sapnap’s old anger colored his voice, “Stop lying to me!” 

“I didn’t lie! Why else would I go out?” 

Sapnap whipped around to look at him, “You’re covered in blood! What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“What are you talking about?” Dream held up his hands, the bruises and aches flaring with pain. 

“All this- this running around at night, killing things,  _ lying _ to me, it’s so...weird! You’re not acting like...like you’re okay.” 

Dream stared at Sapnap, fighting to keep his face neutral, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m saying…” He clenched his fists, struggling to put his thoughts into words, “You’ve been different lately. First it was George’s armor-” 

“Hey! I had a reason-” 

“Then it got worse! You didn’t-” Sapnap swallowed, blinking hard, “You didn’t notice what it was like for the rest of us.”    
  
“What the hell are you talking about? I never hurt any of you!” Dream’s mind was reeling, “I was just trying to make sure everything was fair!” 

“Fair!” Sapnap cried, “Fair isn’t burning the armor George worked hard to enchant.  _ Okay _ isn’t spending hours shoveling dirt to find some useless discs for what was originally a joke.”

“I’m okay!” Dream snapped. He continued along the past, moving quickly, “I don’t need you to lecture me on how terribly I’ve been leading!” 

“That’s exactly the problem! You’re not our leader, Dream. You’re supposed to be our friend!” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” He kept walking, the lake glimmering in the distance. 

“Why do you think Punz left? And George? Why do you think Wilbur wants to make his own nation?” Sapnap yelled, “When did you start thinking of yourself as our leader?”

Dream stopped, pausing right outside the gate to the community house. He was silent.

“Why don’t you just...Let L’Manberg go. They’ll leave us alone, and George and Punz will come back! And things will get better.” 

“I can’t,” Dream sighed, “You know why.” 

“No, I don't!” Sapnap slammed the gate open, the wood creaking with the force, “You’re the only one who’s constantly fighting to keep it! We both love to fight, Dream, but this… this was too far.”

“Too far! You want to talk about too f-” A branch snapping caught his attention, a heavy figure slamming into the ground below. 

They both paused, staring at the foliage. “What the fuck was that?” Sapnap asked. 

Dream moved quietly towards the brush, sweeping it aside with one hand and pulling his sword out with the other. 

“Ow! Shit!” Fundy groaned, brushing pine needles out of his hair. He froze, slowly looking up at Dream, towering over him. “Oh fuck.”

“How long were you listening?” Dream stabbed his sword into the dirt next to Fundy, “What did you hear?”

“N-Nothing!” Fundy struggled to stand, wincing from his bruises. “I didn’t even know you were here!” 

“Dream-” Sapnap started. 

“Shut up,” Dream cut in. He knocked Fundy over again, sweeping his sword up to his throat. “Why are you on our land?” 

“I was getting...food?” Fundy winced at the lie, “Look, just- just let me go and we can forget this happened-”

“No.” Dream pressed harder, opening a thin cut on Fundy’s throat. “Why are you out here?”

“I wouldn’t have to be out here if you hadn’t fucking murdered Tubbo!” Fundy argued back. 

“He needed to die!” 

Fundy froze, “What?”

“I needed to kill him. Break your spirits to the point where you couldn’t get back up,” The pressure behind his sword loosened somewhat, “But it didn’t  _ work!”  _

He felt Sapnap’s hand on his shoulder, tugging him backwards, “Dream, stop-”

“You should be dead!” Dream wrenched his arm away from Sapnap, shoving his sword closer to Fundy, “I should have just killed you when I had the chance!”    
  


He almost smiled at the look on Fundy’s face. Dream readjusted his sword, the tip resting on his enemy’s chest. 

“Do you think Wilbur would surrender if I killed you?” 

“Never,” Fundy hissed.

“You’re weak!” Dream shouted, anger welled up in the pit of stomach, victory stoking the fire in his chest, “Already dead.”

He drew his sword over Fundy’s cheek, the cut quickly welling up with blood. The other man didn’t move, continuing to stare into Dream’s mask. 

“Send Tubbo my regards,” Dream drew back, netherite sword flashing in the light. 

Fundy suddenly jerked, knocked out of the way as Dream’s sword slid between Sapnap’s ribs. 

Sapnap gasped, collapsing onto his side. Red quickly stained the grass below him. 

Dream stared down at his friend. He heard a soft rustle, the thumping footsteps of Fundy running away. 

He felt nothing, kneeling down to try and staunch the blood flowing from Sapnap’s side. Exhaustion washed over him, hands sticky with blood, thoughts a distant hum. He watched as he failed, his last friend’s eyes glazing over, as his bitter expression relaxed into calm.

Dream turned away as his friend faded into dust. He walked to the edge of the lake, sun playing along his jaw. 

Distantly, he could hear laughter, accusing and desperate. 

He reached up, touching the tears running down his face, and knew it was his own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...So.
> 
> A very important chapter for our main characters! Y'all have no idea how much i enjoyed writing that last scene. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave a kudos or a comment if you liked it or have any feedback!
> 
> I'm also taking a break next week (the writing for the next chapter is going to be especially difficult) so I'll see you on November 1st!
> 
> edit 11/5/20: I'm really sorry about missing the update for last Sunday! I haven't had as much time to write as I used to, so it's really slowing down updates. I can't promise an update this Sunday, (though it'd be really nice if I could) These next chapters are a very big part of the story, and I really want to create good content without it feeling rushed or awkward. 
> 
> Thanks for your patience :) -Chicken


	7. Bitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know it's been quite a while since the last update, but I'm doing my best to write a good ending, trust me :)
> 
> This is a slightly shorter chapter, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. 
> 
> TW// Disassociation

It was bitterly cold.

The wooden slats of the floor pressed into his back, the heat from running seeping slowly into the ground. His sweater did nothing to help, tattered and speckled with mud, bright green now dull and stained. Dream raised his hand up to his face. It was sticky with slowly drying blood, the callouses rough under his fingertips as he tried to rub it off. 

Dream laid there for a few moments more, watching his breath mist the air in front of him. He heard the clatter footsteps, fear suddenly lacing up his spine, heart freezing with the sudden spike of adrenaline, almost falling over in the attempt to pick himself up off the floor. He whirled around. The wooden room was still empty, still cold, still lifeless. The scuffling of his boots was the only sound. 

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, resisting the urge to curl back up on the floor. He felt distant, Dream thought, trying to understand the whirling feeling. And angry. Why was that again?

A spike of pain stabbed through his eyes when he looked up. Dream groaned, pressing the heels of his palms against his head. The bright torches of the room hurt to look at, a dull headache flaring up as he gritted his teeth. 

His mouth was dry. His stomach hurt, nausea twisting any hope to eat, getting worse as he swayed back and forth. 

The room around him was small, chests lining the walls. Dream leaned heavily on the crafting table, trying to regain his balance. It was painful to think, but his mind wandered anyway. 

“Dream?” George asked, voice echoing against the planks. “Why would you do that?” 

“What?” Panic rose up in his chest. “George?” 

“Those were my diamonds!” George’s arms were folded, anger clear, even under his glasses.

Dream was standing by their nether portal. George’s face was...different, he realized. The scowl looked out of place, like a glove that didn’t quite fit. “I…”

“You’ve been gone for two days!” He was reminded. “I had to make it off that bastion alone! George sighed, sitting down on one of the beds. “Netherite isn’t that important, Dream.” 

“I know,” Guilt settled like a stone in his stomach, memory trickling back. “But we’d never seen one before, and I really wanted to get something nice-” 

George held up his hand, cutting Dream off. “It’s okay, Dream. But I’m still mad about my diamonds.” 

“...We all make mistakes, George.” Dream pressed his lips together, rubbing harshly at his burn-scarred hands. 

“Mistakes!” George shouted, face suddenly brightening. He began to rifle through a chest. “I’ll show you a mistake!” 

Dream caught sight of the diamond hoe, winking in the light. “George,” He held his hands up, “Let's talk about this.”

George swung the hoe at him, Dream narrowly dodging. He laughed, running away from his friend. 

It was nice, the wind rushing through his lungs as they ran past the monsters, taunting words carrying far on the open mountain. Dream’s shoes pounded against the rough stone, a steady rhythm joined by George’s lighter steps. 

They collapsed down at their camp some minutes later, both winded, voices shaped by grins and almost-laughter. Their stone ledge overlooked the broad lake. 

“I think we should build a house here,” George pointed to the middle of the water. “It’d be easy to defend, and all the different pathways up would be pretty cool.” 

“You sure?” Dream asked. 

“Yeah,” George shrugged. “What could go wrong?” 

Guilt suddenly flooded Dream’s chest, tears welling up in his eyes. He reached up, trying to brush them away before they fell. Why was he-

Dream woke up. 

His mouth was fuzzy, head full of cotton. The last few days rushed back to him. It hurt to remember, Dream thought, even if he did what he had to do. 

_ Did you really have to do it though _ ? Dream asked himself.  _ Were you ever really justified?  _

He blinked hard, sitting up from the floor. Of course he was. Why else would Sapnap and George have stayed?

_ They didn’t.  _ Dream rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  _ They left you.  _

“That’s not true.” He said aloud, his voice gritty, throat aching with disuse.

_ It is.  _ The voice paused.  _ You killed Sapnap so he couldn’t leave _ . 

I didn’t! He thought to himself, getting quickly to his feet. I wouldn’t have stopped him!

The pile of shattered wood laying at his feet, enchantments flickering out as he broke the weapon in anger. The smooth pieces of armored metal in his hands as he threw them into lava. A flick of a switch, the piston retracting glass. The memories flickered past his eyes, unwanted. A bucket of fish, a soft, greeting woof as he returned from exploring. 

The shame burned his ears, hands twitching as the memories washed back over him. It felt like years ago they had arrived at the lake, watching as the land transformed from a forest to the dozens of buildings that dotted the hills today. 

He missed it, Dream realized. He missed when things were simple. When the biggest thing he had to look forward to was looking for bamboo or naming pets. When the greatest war he had fought had been over a fish, when the greatest enemy was the monsters lurking in the dark. He missed his friends.

His stomach soured as he thought of what had become of them. A traitor, a deserter, and a corpse. He’d win this war on his own, Dream thought. He’d take back control of his land.

_ Where is your guilt? _ He asked himself.  _ Where is your regret? _

“I killed him because I needed to!” Dream shouted, his voice echoing off the rough wooden walls. “He was in my way!” His heart was full, anger and bitterness and elation and  _ purpose _ leaving no room for him to speak any longer, let alone feel guilt.

They never fucking cared, had they? He asked himself. The minute there was something better, they were gone. They were gone and it was because of  _ him! _ Dream scrubbed furiously at his eyes. Why wasn’t he fucking good enough for them? 

He  _ knew _ . He  _ knew _ and it tore at his insides like wither-rose tea, hot and bitter and blazing pain. 

Dream’s ears rang. He clutched at his head, trying to calm the raging thoughts. He hadn’t wanted it to end this way. If Tommy would just listen to him, if he could  _ reason  _ with them, maybe things could return to normal.

He gritted his teeth, wincing as he buckled his armor on. It had been a while since he had taken a step back from it all- realized how battered he was, littered with bruises, smelling of smoke. His arms were the worst, scraped and red, which led him to his next thought: how the hell did he get in here?

It had been a while since Dream had first built his base. He had built it more for storage than anything, the wooden planks were barely any protection from the freezing stone walls. The only exit was the crawlspace, rough stone walls so narrow he could barely raise an arm to chip away at them. He must’ve scraped his arms as he crawled through. 

Dream exited the room, the air outside clear and just turning cold as the sun was going down. He could hear the grass whispering softly in the breeze, the quiet rhythm of his boots along the wooden planks familiar. 

He was going to reason with Wilbur. Where was the point in continuing to fight a war that’d only end in more people dead? 

His limbs were heavy as he stepped onto the dirt path. Exhaustion seeped back, and the thought of falling asleep here, the quiet chirp of birds and the leaves rustling, lulling him into a half-awake state, swaying back and forth on his feet. 

The snap of a branch above him sent a shock of adrenaline through his body. Dream whirled around for the culprit, relaxing as he saw the squirrel disappearing back into the branches. 

Dream looked down at the walled city, crouching just before the crest of the hill. Fundy and Punz were keeping watch.

“George!” Dream’s blood ran cold as Wilbur’s voice echoed up to him. He could barely see the edge of a dark grey cloak, snapping in the wind as it picked up. 

Shock washed the tiredness from his eyes, resisting the urge to shoot to his feet. The old anger swept in, determination and rage building like static electricity. 

George had  _ lied  _ to him, Dream thought. The betrayal stung. 

Dream stood, taking a step forward and jumping from the cliff. His ankles sparked with pain as he landed on the grass, gritting his teeth as he ignored it and ran forward. 

How long had he spent protecting his friends? The battles he fought, the bridges he’d burned, all to keep them safe. And it had been worth  _ nothing _ .

Dream drew his sword with a roar, anger burning away the guilt, the fire bright under his mask. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can someone please get this man some sleep
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter :D! It's been written for a while, but with editing and school and everything it's just been a lil difficult concentrating. Hopefully I'll be able to finish up this story within the year, both for my grades and for you guys. 
> 
> Thanks for the support! If you liked it, please leave a kudos or a comment :) 
> 
> Next chapter will probably be up in a week or two, (It's a very important one) see you then!


	8. Flash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very excited for this next part!! I've finally finished writing the rest of the story, so hopefully updates are going to be smoother from here.
> 
> TW // Graphic Injury

Tommy heard the scream, rough and cracking on the edges, brimming with so much anger and bitterness it scraped along his ears like glass against stone. 

"Wilbur," George had whispered, tugging the scarf around his neck off as he leaned over the border of the gate. "Wilbur!"

It was dark, night settling softly on the hills. Torches glowed warmly inside the walls, the only protection against the freezing, whistling wind. 

Wilbur turned, eyes flicking over his enemy. He knocked on the door of the van, a quick rhythm they had memorized weeks ago, and Tommy had stumbled from the van, armor crooked, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Wilbur!" George held his hands up, free of any weapon. "I'm not here to fight."

Tommy watched as his friend approached George, barely-restrained anger warring with his efforts to remain civil. He looked around for Dream, motioning to the others on the walls when he could see nothing.

(Fix the last couple paragraphs bc they dont make very much sense go the fuck to bed me) 

“What happened?” WIlbur asked him, the sound barely carrying. 

Tommy was ridged, staring straight into the trees. He waited for the blow, the spatter of blood on concrete, the betrayal-

“Has Dream attacked yet?” George asked back, equally quiet. “He said he would when I left.”

“You left?” Wilbur stared for a moment, gaze moving back and forth from George’s face to the forest beyond. He continued, not waiting for an answer. “No, not yet. And after everything that happened with Sapnap…” 

George looked up sharply. “Sapnap? Have you heard any news from him? Did he leave Dream? I know I asked him to stay but that was because he knew what to do if Dream tried to-”

“George.” Wilbur cut in. “Fundy returned yesterday. We’ve been looking for Tubbo’s spawnpoint, but it looks like it’s going to be a while before we find anything.” He took a breath. “Fundy said- He said that he had seen them arguing. He was hiding in a tree when a branch broke...and Dream tried to kill him.”

The other man blinked in shock for a moment, worry creasing his face. 

“Sapnap-” Wilbur dropped his eyes to the ground. “Sapnap took the blow for him.”

“I-” George choked on his words for a moment, anger flowing in. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry-” Wilbur started.

“Don’t be.” George stared at him, determination brushing the grief from his eyes. “Sapnap knew what he was doing.”

It was silent for a moment. Wilbur sighed heavily, weariness settling back onto his shoulders as his facade broke. “What’re you doing here?”

“I came to deliver this.” His jaw was set as he handed over the bundle. 

“Tommy,” Wilbur beckoned him over. The leather was cold in his hands, surprisingly heavy for its size. “Take that to Punz.”

It had caught them all off guard- the flurry of footsteps, the yell, the flash of metal against stone.

Tommy whirled around. Dream slashed at Wilbur, the edge of his sword catching on the basalt gate. His face was twisted, caught between a snarl and a grin, mask scraped and splattered with mud. 

He dropped the bag- End crystals spilled out, glass tinkling as they tumbled onto the grass. Tommy stared at them for a moment, a plan forming at the edges of his thoughts.

Dream swung again, Wilbur tried to dodge, not moving backwards nearly fast enough to evade the blow. 

Punz caught the blade on his shield, the sword cutting a deep groove on the wood. He was the only one dressed to fully match Dream, netherite glinting in the moonlight. 

It seemed to only anger Dream further, swinging his sword downwards onto the shield so hard it cracked under the weight, wood buckling under the force. Punz did his best to parry the attacks, forcing Dream back a couple of steps. 

Tommy raced into the van, yanking armor from stands hurriedly, piling weapons and food into his backpack. He kept one eye on the fight outside, the two swordsmen straining to gain the upper ground. 

He tossed Wilbur a sword, the click of the door behind him quiet as he called to Fundy. 

Dream was only one person, Tommy thought. How hard could it be?

His blood ran cold as he turned back around, Punz lying back on the ground, teeth gritted in pain. His hands were up, Dream’s sword at his throat. 

“George,” Dream’s voice was startlingly clear. “I’m here to fix my promise.” 

George stared at him for a beat. “Promise?” He asked hesitantly. “What promise?”

“We- I was going to attack L’Manberg.” Dream answered. “I know I drew it out, George. I should’ve just finished them off when we still had everyone.” He looked down at Punz for a moment, knuckles whitening as he gripped his sword. “I’m ready to get everything back to normal.” 

“What? Normal?” George looked incredulous, eyes hidden behind his dark glasses. “Dream, you killed Sapnap!” 

“No, I didn’t.” Dream’s defensive stance relaxed somewhat, storm clouds clearing for a moment. “They’re lying to you, George.” 

“Then…” George’s voice wavered for a second. “Where’s Sap, Dream?”

“They’re lying,” Dream deflected. “Trust me, George! Why on earth would I kill one of my best friends?” 

George glanced between Dream and Wilbur, anger seeping into his voice. “I did trust you, once.” He pulled his sword from his belt, shifting into an offensive stance. 

Dream barked a laugh at the sudden change, throwing his head back. The anger returned like a clap of thunder, teeth bared and flashing in the sunset. “You’re believing them over me? And you think I’m the one who changed?” 

The other said nothing, determined expression steady. 

“Okay, okay,” Dream said, the laugher finally subsiding. “This has to be a joke. Why the hell would I kill Sapnap?” 

“Why would you kill Fundy?” George countered. He slashed at Dream, the blow countered with such force it almost wrenched the blade out of his hands. “Why would you kill Tubbo?”

“To win this stupid war! You know why, George. Stop playing dumb!” 

George dodged a swing, stepping back towards the van. “We should have just… given them their freedom in the first place! Nobody even had to die!”

“It’s never that easy!” Dream shouted. He ducked downwards, avoiding a swing at his neck. “We can’t just let them go.” 

“You can!” George feigned left, opening a cut on Dream’s leg. “You got yourself into this mess, Dream!” 

Tommy saw the blow coming, George’s guard down for a second too long. With a yell, he sliced at George’s side, the Netherite jagged and broken from the force of the attack. George gasped with pain, hands moving to try and put pressure on the wound. 

Dream stared down at his friend. His arms were shaking with anger, sleeves of his once-bright hoodie gaining new bloodstains. “I did what I had to.”

There was a blur of pink, and clink of glass shattering off metal filled the air. George’s tense expression relaxed, the potion of healing sinking into his wound. 

“It’s over, Dream,” Wilbur said. He had been standing back while the two fought, not wanting to get in the way of the other swordsman. “You’re outnumbered.” 

There was a thunk as an arrow buried itself in Dream’s armor, the metal buckling slightly. Fundy watched from the opposite wall, bow in his hand and quiver at his side, loading another arrow. Dream tore it out, snapping the wood in half, the dent in his armor making the enchantments flicker. He paused for a second, mask moving from person to person in front of him. 

Dream moved with frightening speed, throwing himself at Wilbur with little regard for the others. Wilbur was constantly on the defense, height advantage barely helping his resistance against the attack.

Tommy watched as Punz and George joined. He had seen Dream fight- ruthless and calculating, any slight flaw targeted. It was terrifying, recklessly combining and modifying moves in a whirlwind of clanging metal, dodging and weaving past the flashing metal. He could see the ferocity in Dream’s grin, the joy and anger of being challenged.

He felt lost, unable to tear his eyes off the swordfight. Tommy knew he had to help somehow- anger bright and heart still prickling with the need for revenge. The wood of his bow creaked in his hands as he pulled the string taught and leveled it at Dream. He needed a clear shot.

Punz turned towards him, sidestepping an overhead cut, eyes widening as he realized the possibilities of the arrow. “Tommy wait-”

Dream slashed towards Punz, the momentary distraction all he needed to score a hit. Tommy saw the blade slide neatly between the other’s ribs, armor preventing the sword from cutting too deep. 

“Punz!” Wilbur shouted, dodging another cut. They were on the defense now, but Dream was slowing down. He tried to check up on Punz, earning a cut on his forearm as payment for the distraction. “Tommy, get the potions!” He shouted.

Tommy’s heartbeat was loud in his ears as he threw open their supply chests, hands shaking as he looked through the glowing glass bottles. Please, he thought, grimacing as he nicked his hand on a broken shard. Please.

Cold flowed into his chest as he double checked the chests, his searching growing more and more frantic. Nothing. 

“Wilbur!” Tommy called, racing back over the field. “We don't have any more health potions!” 

He saw George push Dream back a couple feet, landing a strike on Dream’s chestplate. 

“There’s nothing up here, either!” Fundy called from the top of the wall. 

“F-” Tommy started, hearing the twang of an arrow releasing. He turned around quickly, arms going up to try and shield himself from the hit. 

Fundy cried out from above, clutching the arrow buried in his shoulder. Tommy whipped back around, seeing as Dream threw his bow to the side, raising his sword and continuing to fight. 

“Wilbur,” George choked out, teeth gritted under the force of another overhand blow. “Take Punz. I can finish this.” 

“Can you, George?” Dream asked. He looked terrible- blood running from a cut hidden by his hair, armor scratched and dented more than clean. He was starting to stumble now, tiredness making him clumsy. 

The lack of sleep didn’t weigh him down, keeping George on the defence more than what should’ve been possible. 

Wilbur was kneeled by Punz’s side, trying to put pressure on the wound. Tommy ran to the opposite wall, scraping his hands on the ladder’s rungs as he hurried to climb up it. 

“Fundy!” He ran over to his friend, leaning against the wall heavily. The arrow stuck out of his shoulder, blood staining his coat to almost black.

Fundy’s face was creased in pain, shoulder twitching like it was trying to get away from the wound. “You have-” He muttered through gritted teeth. “You have to go help George, Tommy.” 

“I can’t just leave you here!” Tommy answered. He handed Fundy a roll of gauze, readying to take the arrow out. “I have to take this out, okay?” 

“Don’t, Tommy.” Fundy grabbed his wrists with surprising force, groaning as he moved his shoulder. “I can take care of it myself. Get a shot on Dream.”

Tommy looked down at Fundy, trying to decide whether or not to keep pushing. He glanced down at the field below. George and Dream circled each other, Punz splayed out in the grass, Wilbur’s hands pressed to his side as he tried to stem the bleeding. 

“I need your bow,” Tommy replied. Fundy’s bow was lighter than his own as he held it, the arrow tips leaf-shaped instead of pointed. Tommy cast a last glance at his friend, setting his jaw and climbing down the ladder. 

\----

Dream felt lighter than he had in weeks, adrenaline rush working through his blood until it almost burned. Something bubbled up in his stomach, the grin on his face feeling too small for the amount of emotion he was feeling. Fighting was exhilarating. 

George was a familiar opponent. Dream had helped him learn how to fight, but he hadn’t taken as much of an interest in it like Sapnap had. They were evenly matched for the first time in years, Dream realized. 

The rush of energy would end soon. He was done fighting, done wasting his time fighting these useless battles-

Pain sparked on his shin, metal ice cold. George stepped backwards, anticipating a blow in return, looking up when nothing came. Dream stared back. The cuts stung, but he was used to worse. This war hadn’t been very kind to anybody, he thought, glancing over at his old friend’s bruised frame. 

“George,” Dream began, arms up and on the offensive, stumbling to circle his opponent. “Why are you fighting their battles for them?” 

“I’m not fighting anybody’s battles, other than Sap’s,” George grinned at him, teeth stained slightly with blood. 

He flinched at the comment, the sight of dark red staining white shoved roughly out of his thoughts. “I didn’t want him to die, George.” 

“He still did.” George’s face faded back to neutral, snarkiness melting out of his expression like wax. “You fucked up, Dream, and it’s not our problem you don’t know how to deal with it.” 

Dream snarled, slashing forward and slicing at George’s neck with a clang. “I’m doing fine,” he danced backwards a couple steps, his feet light on the grass. “Thanks for the concern, Georgie.”

“We tried to stop you so many times, Dream,” George paused, his defensive position relaxing for a split second. “You never realized what you were doing to yourself.”

He scoffed. “Thanks for the wake up call, friend,” Dream lunged forward, stabbing at George’s leg. His blade scraped off netherite, sparks flashing and dying in the same moment. 

“I didn’t leave because I thought you would lose, Dream.”

Dream froze mid-slash, slowly looking up to face George. “Who said anything about losing?” 

“We all saw it,” George lowered his sword to his side, almost tipping over with exhaustion. “We saw how vicious you’d become, how power-hungry, how fucking hypocritial-”

His words felt caught in his throat. Roses shoved down his throat, thorns scratching at his windpipe as he hacked up petals. 

“I needed you to see it for yourself,” the traitor’s voice was almost a song. “So I left. It was nice. Oddly peaceful out there in the woods.” 

“I’m glad you did!” Dream’s shoulders prickled with- not shame, not guilt, not fear. He ignored it. “All you and Sapnap did was bicker, anyway.”

“Dream’s all alone!” George’s voice was almost a laugh, torn from shouting alerts earlier. “All his friends left him! What’re you gonna do now, Dream?”

Anger was familiar, Dream thought, clenching his hands to stop them from shaking. But for the first time, it came with the need to hurt.

Maybe it wasn't the first time. Dream didn’t fucking care. 

He swung his sword forward, yelling caught in his throat as his muscles screamed in protest. George parried the blow, the momentum wrenching Dream’s sword out of his hands. 

“How are you so bad?” George asked, the mockery clear in his voice. 

Dream charged forward, ducking under the wide arc of George’s sword, knocking him backwards as he lunged forwards. He grabbed George’s left wrist, wrenching it until he dropped his sword. 

He threw all of his weight down, staring down at the traitor’s bloodstained face. His glasses were cracked. 

“I never fucking needed your friendship!” Dream screamed, holding himself up with the opposite hand on George’s shoulder, pressure making him wince. “You did more to help me when you left.” 

George surged up suddenly, Dream falling back as he was unbalanced. He felt his nose crack as George slammed his head up into it, the pain bringing tears to his eyes, sound echoing through his skull as he realized what had caused it. 

The sunglasses clattered the ground, dusty and cracked beyond repair.

He jumped to his feet, one hand clamped over his nose, blood pouring down his face. His sword lied on the grass a couple feet away, the enchantments bright against the dark grass. He looked at his opponent, drawing a knife from his belt. Starting forwards, he felt a burst of energy suddenly fill him, blade aimed at George’s heart-

Dream felt something slam into his shoulder, his armor forced apart as the plates were shifted The knife dipped as it sent a shock through his arm, slicing George’s thigh open. He yanked it out and stood, swaying, unable move his left arm. Dizziness and exhaustion almost knocked him over as he picked up his sword.

He struggled to breathe in, the overwhelming events suddenly taking up all the room in his lungs, mind stuck underwater. Dream struggled to see what had hit him, looking up to see Tommy, unmoving in shock. 

The boy was staring beyond the gate, bow already fitted with an arrow clattering onto the grass, voice caught in his throat. 

“Tubbo?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm really excited for the next chapter and I hope you are too. 
> 
> If you liked it, please leave a kudos or a comment! See you next chapter :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has definitely been my favorite chapter to write!! It's been around for a while and I hope you guys like it.
> 
> TW // graphic injury, main character death, blood

Dream froze for half a second, mind spinning with the new outcomes. The future wasn't kind.

He glanced back towards George, who was rapidly trying to bind his leg with shaking hands, face creased with concentration. Wilbur was dressing Punz’s wound, hands stained with blood, eyes wide and voice loud as he forced the other to stay awake. 

Dream's vision slowly stopped spinning, thoughts barely lining up enough for him to lurch forward as a plan formed. He swept his blade up into Wilbur’s throat, hovering just before his skin. Dream tugged him upwards, grip tight on his coat, shuffling back from Punz. 

Leverage, he thought distantly. Leverage is a powerful thing. 

“Tommy.” Dream said, adjusting his grip on the sword. “Turn around.” 

He saw how difficult the order was. Tommy tore his eyes off his friend like it hurt not to leave without a hug, turning to face Dream. Slowly, recognition lit up the boy's face as his eyes flickered down to the sword, then up at Wilbur's face.

"What do you want?" Tommy asked, voice tightly controlled. 

"L'Manburg will never be free," Dream replied, lightly tapping the sword to Wilbur's throat again. "Give up, Tommy."

Nervousness seeped into Tommy's voice. "L-Lets talk this through, Dream." He spoke quickly, gaze darting from Wilbur to him to Tubbo.

Dream shifted his stance slightly. "You're running out of time."

"How about," Tommy took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "I give you my discs, and you don't kill Wilbur."

He mulled it over for a couple seconds. The discs meant nothing to him, but if Tommy thought they were a good trade for Wilbur's life…

"Hand over the discs, Tommy." Dream answered. He stepped back from the Camarvan, the path to an ender chest open.

Tommy moved slowly and carefully. He kept his chest towards Dream the entire time, but his eyes never left Wilbur's face.

Dream pulled the blade a little tighter as he watched Tommy, a hitch in Wilbur's breathing announcing that he'd drawn blood.

"Here," Tommy held the discs out, magenta and green patterns loud against the black vinyl. "Now let Wilbur go."

Dream shoved Wilbur forwards, sending him stumbling towards Tommy, as he snatched the discs. The distraction gave him enough time to slip them into his ender chest.

Wilbur righted himself, gingerly touching the shallow cut on his neck. Tommy had turned back towards Tubbo, looking for guidance, comfort,  _ something _ as he took a breath to call him closer.

An odd peace swept over him, the anger seeping away as quickly as it arose. His mind felt clearer than it had been in weeks, the pages and pages of plans and worries and thoughts swept away. 

He looked at Tubbo once more, oddly young without his uniform, and Tommy, shirt stained with someone else's blood. Dream knew, as the recognition lit up their faces, his battle was already over. 

So he stepped forward, eyes fixed on the boy in front of him.

Dream stabbed forward, knife flashing. A scream tore out of Tubbo’s throat, too little of a warning, far too late.

Tommy fell, curling in around the wound, blood already staining his uniform. 

Dream remained, his eyes locking onto Tubbo’s as he came into view. 

\----

Distantly, Tommy could hear screaming. It seemed important, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Tubbo was back! His mind shouted at him, elated with the discovery. He’d finally respawned, finally returned to fight with them.

Tommy wanted nothing more to stand, but the ripple of pain as he breathed forced him to lay still. It didn’t hurt as much as it burned, blade shockingly cold against his skin. The thudding of footsteps echoed through the ground. It was a struggle to open his eyes, vision blurry as he blinked away the tears of pain. The screaming had stopped, Tommy noticed with relief. He could hear voices, distant and waterlogged.

His chest felt hollow. Blurry shapes moved in his vision, flickering in and out as he blinked.

Squinting, he tried to make out the words. Dream’s voice, hoarse and ragged and breaking, reflecting off the dark walls with horrible, ugly laugher.

“Are we done yet?” He choked out. “Can we go home now, George?”

“No,” George began, struggling to stand on his injured leg. “We can’t.”

The laughter petered out, shifting to quiet gasps. “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t  _ want  _ this-”

“Shut up, Dream.” George cut him off roughly. “It doesn’t matter if you want this or not. What you did, what you’re  _ doing _ , can’t be fixed just because you don’t ‘want’ this anymore.”

“I did this,” Dream answered, his blurred figure shifting slightly. “For you. And for Sapnap. And at one time…” His voice caught- “for Punz. For anyone that called this place home.”

Tommy heard Wilbur hush someone, a quiet murmur. 

“You failed.” Tommy barely heard it, George's whisper was almost buried under Dream’s heaving breaths. 

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” Dream snapped back. “I beat them. I  _ won _ .” 

“Sapnap isn't here.” George said.

“Don’t-”

“Eret isn’t.” 

“George.” 

“Tubbo wasn’t.”

“Stop.” Dream’s voice wavered slightly. “Don’t  _ preach  _ to me about who isn’t here. Because you weren’t. You left when I needed you the most.”

“I left because I saw who you were,” George closed the distance, facing Dream fully. “I saw what you were doing before you even realized your goal.”

“I- What?”

“You always felt like you needed a role.” He said. “You thought the only person to be was the villain.” George chuckled, harsh and cracking. “Congratulations, Dream! You’ve become our villain. You did it. You  _ won. _ ”

Tommy shifted, sending a shock of pain through his system. He felt his armor being loosened, helmet falling off his head with a quiet thump. A low groan tore it’s way out of his throat, every breath in and out hurting, like he’d swallowed a bee’s nest. 

“Was it worth it? Did you find what you were looking for?” 

“Shut up, George.” Dream answered quietly. 

“How heavy is the crown, Dream?” George threw his arms out, dropping his sword with a  _ clang _ . “Was it worth the sunset?”

“I said shut up!” Dream shouted, raising his blade up, blocking a blow that would never come. He was shaking.

George held his hand to his heart, stumbling forward to frame Dream’s mask. “They loved you.” His voice was clear.

Dream slashed him from shoulder to hip. 

George’s death was far too slow, far too painful, far too undeserving of the sigh of relief George exhaled, face pointed upwards as he collapsed, staring up as if he was stargazing. His eyes slowly emptied of everything but the bright, glowing moon, his flesh dissolving into dust. 

L’Manburg held its breath for a moment, the air eerily still.

Tommy could barely feel someone’s hands on him, skin faintly humming with static. Sound faded in and out with his vision, greying along the edges. He felt numb, head packed with cotton, the air smelling of burnt grass and blood.

“-ommy? Tommy!” They were shaking him and it  _ hurt _ \- 

He tried to raise his arms to bat them away, a sharp noise crawling up this throat as the blade shifted again, pain spiking through him. 

“Sorry, sorry!” The person- Tubbo, he thought distantly. They had so much to catch up on.

“S’okay,” Tommy slurred. The wound stung as he shivered, suddenly freezing cold. “We’re okay, right?” 

“R-right.” Tubbo glanced upwards, shaking his head at someone Tommy couldn’t see. “We’re fine, Tommy.” 

“Good. Wouldn’t want Dream showin’ up again.” He huffed a breath, remembering the quiet crackle of a record player. “Always messin’ up our sunsets, wasn’t he?”

“And the embassy. We’re gonna fix it together, right?” Tubbo rubbed roughly at his eyes.

“Clingy.” Tommy could almost ignore the ache in his stomach, wanting so badly to sit up and just laugh with his friend. At the cruelness and absurdity of it all, at the relief of having him back. “You’re not gonna go cryin’ on me and shit, are you?” 

“‘Course not, Tommy.” Tubbo said. “To be fair, you’re more clingy than I am.” 

“That’s not true-” He broke off with a cough, sides shaking. A sickening pain shot through him, lungs aching with the effort. Tommy wheezed a breath, a metallic tang filling his mouth.

“Tommy!” Tubbo had shuffled around to the other side of him at some point, kneeling down as he tried to get a better look at the wound. “Don’t close your eyes,” Tommy ignored the quiet sniffle, peering up at his friend. “Wilbur will be here soon.” 

“I won’t,” Tommy tried to pull on a smile, clenching and relaxing his fists as nausea welled up. “I won’t.”

Hopefully Tubbo could take first watch tonight, let him get a good night's sleep in. His body was sore, every breath sapping more and more of his energy until he was struggling to stay awake, eyes fluttering shut every couple seconds. Maybe he’d get a full night’s sleep if he traded his job for Fundy’s....

“Tommy? Can you hear me?” Wilbur asked him quietly, kneeling next to Tubbo. “We’re gonna help you, alright?” 

“‘Kay.” He answered, face heavy. The blood around the wound soaked his shirt, freezing cold as it stuck to his skin. He tried to look up at Wilbur, wincing as the movement caused more blood to well up. 

“Wilbur, We can’t- We can’t move the knife.” Tubbo choked out, voice thick with emotion. “He’s already lost too much blood.”

Tommy’s coat was shuffled aside, the air sweeping down making him shiver. 

Wilbur hushed Tubbo, tapping their shoulders together. “It’ll be alright.” 

“But Will-” 

“Tubbo.” Wilbur looked at him, grief and resignation pulling his shoulders into a defeated slump. “There’s nothing we can do.” 

“We can brew potions! I have the supplies, Will,  _ please _ , we can’t just let him die-” Tubbo was crying now, tears slipping gently down his face. 

“There’s no time.” He sounded exhausted, voice a quiet rasp. Tommy’s heart ached, knowing it was because of him. 

Tubbo’s hands were warm as he picked up Tommy’s, the touch barely registering. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’ll be fine, Tubbo,” Tommy swallowed, the pain flaring up again as his arm was moved. “Just don’t go blowin’ shit up without me, alright? I’ll be back soon.” 

Tommy wished for home, lying there in the clearing, for bright sunlight and cut grass and laughter. He couldn’t draw in enough air anymore, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. The grip on his hand tightened until his fingers went numb.

But there was only rain, salty drops pattering onto his coat. They hung there, sparkling like pearls.

Tommy breathed in.

He breathed out.

And the clearing was silent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. 
> 
> TW // graphic injury

Wilbur was frozen. He could feel Tubbo shaking next to him, tears running down his face, still clutching at Tommy’s hand. 

Punz was safe, side bandaged and the wound almost clotted over, sitting up on the grass. He didn't know where Fundy was.

His eyes caught on Dream, stock-still at the bank of the lake, having stumbled back after Tubbo's scream rang out. Wilbur’s legs screamed in protest as he stood, muscles twinging with exertion. His hands shook as he leaned down, his sword’s blade flashing brightly against the dark grass. 

Tommy was dead, his mind said helpfully. Tommy was dead and he had a nation to run. 

Wilbur walked towards Dream. The world was twisting, blurry around the edges, all at once too loud and too quiet. He was faced forward, sword unmoving by his side. He faced his enemy.

There wasn’t time to think. There wasn’t time to forgive. So Wilbur lifted his arm. The blade almost was level with Dream’s heart, dipping lower to avoid bone, and ran him through. It was terribly silent, no gasp of surprise, no scream of pain, just the quiet rustle of cloth on skin.

Dream coughed, unmoving despite the pain, spattering Wilbur’s uniform with his blood. He gasped for a breath, struggling to regain his balance as the shock moved through his system. Wilbur couldn’t move for a moment, fingers whitening on the grip of the sword still held in his hand. 

With a low, wheezing chuckle, Dream grasped the blade of the sword still sticking out of chest. He stepped backwards, stiffening as the blade was pulled out. His stance never shifted, even as blood surged from the wound, the bright green of his sweater staining to black. 

Wilbur watched as he collapsed, head filling with static as he blinked downwards. Dream choked out a couple words, too quiet to hear. Blood flooded from his mouth as he continued to cough, rough wheezing breaths. With one long, rattling sigh, he went still. 

Dream dissolved into dust, the soft whispers of sand filling Wilbur’s ears. His armor dropped from his form as his body fell away, pack slipping from dissolving shoulders. The white mask remained, speckled with red, lopsided smile staring into the sky. 

He stood there for a moment, joints cracking as he shifted in place. The mask sneered at him from the dark grass. Wilbur leaned down and picked it up, the odd material smooth in his hands. 

His hands were shaking, but from the cold or the stress, he couldn’t know. He was so tired of fighting, tired of the weight of all his responsibilities, tired from the grief he had to carry and still stay standing. Bitterness welled up in him, a sour taste coating the back of his throat. 

Wilbur threw the mask as hard as he could, slamming into the blackstone wall. It bounced into the water and sunk, chipped and cracked along the side. 

He hadn’t realized he’d collapsed until his knees hit the damp mud, tears almost welling up faster than he could scrub them away. Every bone in his body ached. Difficult as it was, Wilbur dragged his eyes off the ground, gaze flickering around the clearing. 

Tubbo rose from Tommy’s body, coat and hat held lifelessly in his hands. His shoulders were still trembling.

Wilbur watched as Fundy helped Punz to stand, good shoulder supporting most of Punz’s weight. They stumbled towards him, slumping down onto the ground.

He felt another thump beside him, an arm slinging around his shoulder in a half hug. Wilbur looked over to see Tubbo, eyes red from crying, but safe and whole. He stared into the soil, muscles tense and shoulders hunched. 

“W-why’d this have to happen to us?” He asked Will, voice soft and crackling. “What’d we do to deserve this?”

“Nothing.” Wilbur said. He pressed his hands into the dirt in front of him, clutching at the grass. “We didn’t do anything, Tubbo.”

“I want to go home, Will.” Tubbo whispered. 

“Me too,” Wilbur was shaking again, bitterness and grief welling up in his throat. He looked at Tubbo for a moment, meeting his bloodshot eyes. 

Wilbur tugged Tubbo into a hug, still kneeled on the grass. The shock was wearing off, every hour of the last week beginning to register. He felt two more weights pile on, the cold seeping away as they huddled together. 

He could feel Fundy shivering beside him, hand gripping his coat. 

“Dream’s dead,” Wilbur told them, breath almost misting in the cold. “It’ll be okay.” 

“W-Will-” Fundy began, hold loosening so he could look up at him. “He’ll be back.”

“I know.” He ignored the way his voice broke on the word. “But he’s gone, for now.”

“We’re free.” Tubbo mumbled, sniffles shifting to an exhausted, half hysteric laugh. “L’Manburg is free.”

“Doesn’t feel like a victory.” Fundy leaned as they released the hug. Cold air rushed back in, a new wave of shivers crawling up his back. 

Wilbur stood. “It wasn’t.”

“Was it really...worth it, then?” Tubbo asked quietly, fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt. “All of this?”

“Who knows?” Wilbur stared down at the mask in the bottom of the lake, eyes stuck on the blood on his reflection. 

“What do we do now?” Fundy’s voice wavered for a moment. “How do we even begin to repair... any of this?” He gestured around at the land, eyes catching on the dark stains on the grass.

“We write.” Wilbur walked into the Camarvan, snatching some blank papers off his desk before stumbling back out. 

“Write?” He asked incredulously.

“A declaration of independence.” He confirmed, shuffling the sheets into rough order. “Might as well make it official, right?” 

When he looked over at Tubbo again, the tiniest smile had lit up the boy’s face.

“Independence.” Fundy said to himself, with a touch of wonder. 

Wilbur stared down at the page for a second, breaking out into a laugh. 

“What?” He moved to Wilbur’s side, peering down at the paper. “Oh my god.” 

“Tubbo.” Wilbur turned the page, holding it up to Tubbo’s face, pausing so he could read it.

Tubbo slapped his hand over his mouth when it registered, trying to muffle his laugh. 

“Suck it, green boy!” Wilbur crowed, scratching his name into the paper. They were all laughing now, too tired to care. He passed it to them, watching as their signatures joined his own. 

The sun was beginning to rise, sky lightening as dawn crept towards them. 

“We’ll rebuild.” He told them, helping them to stand. “L’Manburg is free!” 

A bright grin lit up his face, the grief seeping out of his thoughts as their world began to warm again. 

They would be okay. 

\----

The forest floor was dark. 

He’d seen George die, torn by his friendship and allegiance. He saw as Dream was reduced to dust, fate wrought by his own fear. 

He remembered the day Dream caught him stealing while they were off on patrols, the whisper of cold metal on his throat as he was given a choice. It had been a simple offer, difficult to accept but impossible to refuse.

Betray L’Manburg, and you’ll become their king.

Was it worth it? The mask had asked him. Was he willing to throw away every friendship? When it was for the good of everyone else?

Seeing Dream crumble to sand, Eret found the answer. 

Yes, he’d said all those days ago, woefully ignorant, accepting the bundles of gunpowder and sand. It was never meant to be. 

The sun was peeking over the hills now, its light spilling into the forest. Eret stood, brushing the leaves from his shoulders, and began the walk home. 

Far below L’Manburg, an obsidian room sat, pistons primed for the push of a button. Buried under the grass, bundles of TNT waited for a spark. But the war had been lost. They’d rot, dusty and unused, as cold and useless as their owner’s heart. 

They couldn’t regret it, not now. Their mind did it anyway, disbelief and anger at the fact they couldn’t fix their mistake making tugging until their chest hurt. 

Eret pushed their sunglasses to the side, rubbing the tears away, trying to quell the stinging. They glanced towards L’Manburg, grass golden in the sunrise, and tried to push away the guilt that welled up. 

There was no room to look back, anymore. 

So they returned to their castle, the hallways empty and throne room cold. They threw themselves down onto the golden chair, the urge to pace almost overwhelming. 

There was no weight on their head, no crown to make this throne a reality. It was freezing, with no cape to drape across their shoulders. He’d burned his uniform days ago, tears spilling down their face as they watched the navy blue fabric crumble to ash.

Light filled the hall, colorful windows sending flickering reflections spinning around the room. It warmed, slowly, the biting cold fading away. 

There was nobody to help carry their burden, guilt failing to melt in the bright light. 

Eret couldn’t leave this place now, not after how much they’d given up. So they stayed, guilt and fear alike tying them to the throne, frozen in place.

And they knew, as they thought back through every wretched moment, that it would never be worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. This is the last chapter of the fic, but I will be writing the next arc sometime in the next year (I have a really cool au coming out soon first) written with some new twists n turns :)
> 
> I have a tumblr over at [chickens-for-minecraft](https://chickens-for-minecraft.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to visit me!
> 
> And thank you to my beta reader/editor/partner in angst Tayto, who co-wrote this fic and was amazingly supportive the entire time. 
> 
> See you guys in a couple weeks! I hope you enjoyed taking this journey with me :D


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